


Hit me Where it Hurts

by Oddcompass



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Dimitri is mentioned but not important, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Like lots of it, Love Confessions, Post-Time Skip, Semi-Public Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Smut, at least partly, everyone is sad :(, fluff-ish at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddcompass/pseuds/Oddcompass
Summary: He wanted to kiss her, to drown his sorrows within her willing mouth, knowing he would do the same for her. He wanted more than that, but how could now be an appropriate time? War was just shown to them full force, heartache plainly seen within everyone. And yet, he couldn't keep his mind from wondering how it would be to make love to her here in these wooden pews."Byleth, I--"He cut her off with a kiss.---In other words: Byleth finds Mercedes for support.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Hit me Where it Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> I love Mercedes and Byleth so much and the Gronder Field fight just broke my weak willed heart ;(( 
> 
> Anyways, this is my first work in like 2 years, so this may be a little shaky. I proofread this myself so there may be errors. I hope you enjoy!

Gronder Field. The name itself now left a sour taste in his mouth, the urge to spit growing the longer he thought of it. A horrid, heart wrenching battle took place there. Even if the victory was necessary, Byleth couldn't help but to want to turn back time even further. To force Sothis to part from him just to take them back in time to find a way to reverse this outcome.

He tutored those students, felt their bonds with him strengthen multiple times. They came to him for advice and guidance even over their own professors and house leaders. He cared for all of them even if his time with them felt short-lived. The only solace he could find in striking them down was the equal pain in their voice that matched what was in his heart.

Him and the rest of the Blue Lions are back at the monastery, their hearts heavy and weak. Dimitri finally came back to his senses after the untimely death of Rodrigue. Byleth consoled and guided Dimitri, finding a small shred of joy at helping his former student among the chaos of war.

Now, Dimitri finally retired to his lodging, having wore himself out from spilling his emotions and regrets. Byleth felt exhausted as well, but the agonized screams reverberating in his head kept him from even considering going to his room.

Instead, he wanders the monastery with aid of a candle, one finger curled into the handle and the rest to support them. The sky was dark and looming above him. It seemed only fitting, he thought, head hanging slightly lower, steps slow. He needed a distraction, a remedy.

Byleth didn't pay much attention to where he was going, mind wandering as much as his feet were. It wasn't until he came to two solid, wooden doors that he realized he wandered to the cathedral. He wondered why here for a moment, perplexed as to why the holy sanctum would call to him. Even with the goddess Sothis having merged with him five years ago, he was never one to deeply believe or even pray. His mind thought on the little goddess, still missing the sound of her voice.

He pushed the doors open, the creak of their hinges loud from years of lack of care. Light poured in from the rubble and peered in through the remaining stained glass. Somehow, even with the destruction evident here, the cathedral seemed more holy than ever.

His steps were loud as he finally walked in, the sound echoing across the high walls and ceiling. He glanced around, noting where the counselor and choir conductor would stand during daylight hours, glad to know they made it through the war as he slept for five years.

"Professor?"

He stops, the voice catching him off guard.

Turning to his right, he saw Mercedes sitting in one of the pews. She didn't stand when she met his eyes but she did pat the empty space beside her, smile weak.

He couldn't help but notice the thin nightgown she was wearing. It flowed down to the floor, spilling at her feet in a delicate pool of white. With the flame shining a low light on her, he could almost make out the outline of her body underneath and he idly wondered if she were cold. He wouldn't be opposed to keeping her warm.

Byleth didn't speak, only nodded his greeting and accepted her proposal, seating himself beside her and placing the candle on the floor outside the pew. He placed his hands on his knees and straightened his back, trying to seem more collected than he felt if only for her sake.

"Professor," Mercedes started, her voice small. "I see you can't sleep either."

Byleth shook his head, confirming her statement. If he had a heart, he just knew it would beat a little harder when she reached for his hand, squeezing it and his knee. He knew she could see through his facade, could see the pain that sat in his eyes. Her smile pierced his heart with it's accuracy, already tearing him down.

"I understand. I could hardly sleep after that. War truly is terrible, isn't it?" Mercedes brought a closed fist to her chest, pressing in as she bowed her head. "This makes me wish for our academy days again. Don't you, professor?"

"Byleth, please."

"Pardon?"

He gazed at her, hand scooping hers, cupping it lightly. "Call me by my name. Byleth."

"Oh, well, you aren't our professor anymore, are you?" Her giggle sounded genuine and it made his heart swell. "OK, I can do that, Byleth."

The way she said his name in her birdsong voice made his want to cry that much more prominent. Byleth always wondered how she would sound saying it even back at the academy days. He had fallen for her back then, but kept himself professional as her teacher.

Now, with time and war ahead of them and school behind them, he felt as if he could possibly express himself to her a little, if at all. His blood thrummed in his veins when she brought her other hand to join his, now cupping his between her hands.

They're so soft and warm, just like how he imagines the rest of her.

"You can cry if you need to," Mercedes' voice enveloped him as her arms did. "We're all here for you, Byleth. I'm here for you."

Just as he opened his mouth to protest--to say, no there are no tears in his eyes, no feeling of gravel weighing his heart down--he broke, tears streaming down his round cheeks.

The feeling was always so foreign to him, even when he cried over his father's death. Still, with how alien it felt to sob and be pulled gently into Mercedes' bosom, he wept. He wept and wept and wept. All those faces, bloodied and bittersweet, sad and resolute all the same. His father's face. Rodrigue. Everyone's face ghosted across his mind's eye, almost as if allowing him a final goodbye to the departed.

He heard Mercedes sniffle above him as he wet her chest with his tears. She must be crying as well, the thought soothing him some. It was nice to know for certain that he wasn't alone in his pain, even though he truly knew beforehand.

Her arms felt like a blanket wrapped around him, shielding him from the world. One of her hands gently combed through his hair, the other rubbing circles on the small of his back.

"Let it out, Byleth. Cry all that you need to." Her voice was stuffy from her own sobs. He could feel her tears drop heavy on his head. "We'll make it through together."

With her scarred voice and his broken heart, they cried together, bathed in the moonlight inside the cathedral.

Byleth doesn't know how long they cried, Mercedes' eyes red and puffy when they parted and he was sure he looked the same. Their hands stayed joined, however, grasping each other tightly.

Tears were still slipping from her eyes and down her cheeks, the light streaming through the stained glass coloring parts of her face and tears. He reached his free hand out to her, cupping her cool cheek as he wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb.

"I don't like to see you cry, Mercedes." He finally spoke to her, knowing that there were still tears in his eyes as well. "It doesn't suit you."

Her giggle sounded muddied, her throat full of tears. "I could say the same for you, Byleth. I prefer your rare smiles."

He had already wiped her tears away and yet his palm stayed against her cheek. Normally, people would remove their hand, but not Byleth. A part of him--scratch that, the whole of him--couldn't stand to move his hand from her face. He wanted to press against her fully, to feel her embrace once again. He wanted to kiss her, to drown his sorrows within her willing mouth, knowing he would do the same for her. He wanted more than that, but how could now be an appropriate time? War was just shown to them full force, heartache plainly seen within everyone. And yet, he couldn't keep his mind from wondering how it would be to make love to her here in these wooden pews.

"Byleth, I--"

He cut her off with a kiss.

It was harder than he intended it to be, his lips stinging with the slight pain. Neither of them moved for a moment, the air even seeming to still.

Byleth's eyes were still open, peering into Mercedes' gorgeous depths. He knew of the taboo of kissing with your eyes open but he had to know her reaction, to know if she would allow him to continue.

Another moment passed of neither moving and Byleth started to doubt himself. Was she not interested? Did he move too fast?

Just as he moved back, Mercedes grabbed his face and brought his lips back to hers, eyes slipping closed.

It was desperate and sloppy. His tongue had already slipped past her lips, greedily taking in the taste of her mouth. His hands went to her sides, pulling her flush to him, glad that neither of them were wearing their armor so that he could feel her coolness through their clothes. He could feel her breasts press against his chest, the buttons of his night shirt pushing into his skin. Her heavy breaths filled his mouth and he tasted tears.

His hands couldn't stay still and neither could hers. He felt her hands already drawing up his stomach underneath his shirt and her hands were somehow warm. Her touches were smooth, easy despite the feeling of urgency in her motion. He felt as though he were on the opposite end of the spectrum. His fingers gripped at her hips and thighs, feeling the soft plushness of her. They slid up her stomach and breasts, feeling the peaks of her nipples underneath his palms. She shuddered a gentle moan and he drank it.

Soon, she was unbuttoning his clothes, eager as her hands roamed his scarred and toned chest. He hummed his appreciation, shucking off the flimsy garment without breaking the kiss. When his hands pressed back against her, one in her short tresses and the other squeezing the inside of her thighs, it felt as though she melted into him.

They broke, panting for breath. Byleth gazed at her face, locking away the look of her kiss swollen lips and darkened eyes in his mind.

"Byleth," she mumbled, voice low.

"Mercedes," he whispered back.

"Will you take me tonight?"

He didn't respond with words, needing to feel her skin underneath his lips again.

Byleth pulled her into his lap and went for her neck. She squeaked his name out, jolting in his hold. He could only give a low growl, moving on instinct.

He sucked and bit along the milky expanse of her soft skin. He breathed in her sweet scent as he marked her, hands massaging her ass as she moaned low for him. He couldn't get enough of her. He would swallow her whole if he could, drink the entirety of her.

He felt starved, empty. He needed her. He needed to feel her envelope him whole, needed to see her cheeks warm and mouth open as he loved her.

She ground down onto his hard length, breath stuttering past her lips. "Byleth, please! I need you now."

He knew what she meant, the rough press of her core against his clothed erection not subtle.

Byleth wanted to please her right, especially for their first time. He wanted to kiss along her body, taste her nectar and smell her musk. He wanted to enter her slowly and make love to her. He felt almost guilty for not having the patience to do so.

He also wanted to drown in her and swallow her whole. He wanted to let out his pent up anger and sadness in her. It was obvious she wanted the same towards him, and so he caved.

He lifted her in his arms and she clung to him. He lied her gently against the seat of the pew, watching as she quickly discarded herself of her clothing. It was hard not to stare at her beauty as it was revealed to him, but she was giving him a look that made his heart ache and hands fumble with his pants.

It didn't take him long to be as bare as she was, the chill in the air barely registering.

He knelt with one knee on the bench and his other foot on the floor, lining himself up with her sopping entrance. Before he went any further, he leaned up and kissed her.

"Oh, Byleth," Mercedes whined, breaking the kiss.

Soon he was bottomed out inside of her, both groaning at the feeling of the other.

She was so warm and wet, a wonderful combination that would be his undoing. He took a moment to appreciate it, to soak in the feeling he's craved from her for so long. If only it were under better circumstances and not fueled with grief and lust.

"Move." She spoke with purpose and hurt, fingers gripping his shoulders and swiveling her hips.

Byleth did as told, taking one moment to slide almost entirely out and hold still, on a precipice with her. They gazed at each other, sharing one more kiss.

Then he snapped his hips forward.

Her resounding moan was bordering on a scream, his name and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the empty air around them. He went fast and hard, relishing in every cry that came from Mercedes' mouth. She bucked back against his every thrust, matching his rhythm as best she could. Her nails racked down his back to leave trails of welts.

He was sweating as he examined her face, feeling the beads slide down his temples and ears. He felt his arms begin to tremble, the urge to break down and collapse almost overwhelming him. He felt tears well up.

Mercedes must have took notice in between her passionate screams for she grabbed his sweaty face and pulled him close to the crook of her neck, arms curling around his shoulders and head.

"I'm here, Byleth. I'm here."

Tears slipped out, arms shaking harder.

Her arms and body were his only anchor to the real world. She kept him grounded, aware. He hoped he did the same to her as he threw his entire self into pleasing the both of them.

She gripped him tighter and he went faster. He could feel his orgasm approaching swiftly now, mumbling as such into her skin. She didn't answer him but he was sure she heard.

He tilted his head to mouth along her jaw, tasting her tears and skin. He wanted to hold out, to keep going as long as she needed, but he knew he was going to finish soon.

"Can I? Inside?" He huffed, hips stuttering in their rhythm. "Please."

"Yes! Let go, Byleth."

That was all the encouragement he needed, moaning Mercedes' name loud and long as he came inside her. That seemed to trigger her own orgasm as her voice went high, her walls clamping and convulsing around him. It seemed to last forever, but they finally came down from their high. He almost collasped on her, catching himself on one elbow before he crushed her with his weight. His mind felt hazy and light, body heavy.

They panted together for a moment, her arms still wrapped around him as if she were afraid he would float away from her. Slowly, he pulled back enough to catch her eye. He was met with bleary eyes, the satisfaction of sex swimming within them as well. He frowned, repeating the action of a while ago of wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"You're hands are so calloused." She whispered, staring up at him.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I like them." She gave his thumb a shaky kiss. "I like you."

"Don't you love me?"

Her eyes went wide, mouth open in a small 'o' shape. Her cheeks dusted over with more red than what was already there, a shy smile.

He felt her answer before she even spoke it, a smile spreading out on his own lips as she spoke.

"Of course I love you. Do you love me?"

"I always have."

"Oh, Byleth!" She tittered, a hand covering her mouth. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

He removed her hand and kissed her once again, finally glad to feel the ache in his chest subside if only a bit. He would always hurt from the events of Gronder Field and further down the line of the war, win or lose. Finding his love wouldn't fix that, but it would make it easier to deal with.

As the couple shared kisses and much needed healing laughter, he saw the future in her eyes. He finally looked forward to tomorrow.


End file.
